


Terrified

by ohaven



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Doggy Style, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Non-Consensual Tickling, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 04:39:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17574053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohaven/pseuds/ohaven
Summary: Reader gets "saved" from McCree. He wants thanks, but she refuses to give it. His solution? He's gonna take it instead.





	Terrified

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for the long wait! life has been a bit hectic. i know this is my first work in a while so im sorry for being a bit rusty.

“You don’t fucking understand,” you snarled hotly, but the man in front of still wasn’t understanding. “I was fine on my own. In fact, the mission was so close to failing because of what you did.” 

“That ain’t no way to thank yer hero,” McCree chuckled back. “I expected a thank you.” 

“A thank you for what? Shooting a man and setting off an alarm?” You were astounded, your exasperation slowly creeping into your voice with every passing second.

“He was lookin’ at you funny,” The cowboy defended. 

“I’m a grown ass woman,” you retorted. “I can look after myself. Fuck off, McCree.” 

You spun on your heel and stormed down the hallway. Or, at least you tried to, because McCree grabbed you by the shoulders and threw the both of you on the ground, with him effectively pinning you beneath him. 

“McCree!” You were shocked. “What are you doing? Let me go!” 

“Nuh uh, darlin’,” he grunted. “Not until I get a proper thank you.” You were still with confusion, until you felt his hands close around your neck. 

The reaction was immediate. The second you realized your air supply was cut off, you kicked and squirmed like a toddler throwing a tantrum. 

To your dismay, the cowboy didn’t let go. 

“Oh, darl’,” he cooed. “I love it when you struggle.” 

Your vision was beginning to get spotty. In a feeble attempt to get air, you clawed at the large, tanned hands imprisoning your oxygen supply. Your mouth fell open, but your gasps were empty, painful, and unfulfilling. 

“Hush,” the southern drawl sounded from above you. You looked up at the bearded man, fear finally flooding into your system, and your vision went out. 

\-----

Pain bloomed on your cheek. It pulled you out of consciousness, and you screwed your eyes and furrowed your brows as the pain dulled, attempting to go back to sleep. 

The pain stung the side of your face once again. This one hurt more than before. You groaned feebly. 

“Wake up, honey bun.” This statement, combined with another slash of pain, made you jolt back into reality. The smell of cigar smoke clung to the walls of the room you were in; with this information, you could only conclude that you felt like complete shit. And most likely in McCree’s quarters.

Right on cue, there he was. Tall, dark, and dangerous, McCree was hovering on top of you with a devious glint in his eye, right in your face upon being ripped out of unconsciousness. His body weight was pushing you into the bed below you, effectively trapping you under him, and his hips were nestled comfortable between your legs. With that in mind, there was something hard and massive poking you in sinful places through the layers of fabric you were so fucking thankful for. 

“Jesse,” you caught his attention with a warning tone. “What’s going on?” 

“Ya see,” he smirked. “We all gotta thank our heroes somehow.” 

You were confused until he began to unzip your pants. Realization hit you like a ton of bricks, but you tried to play innocent, as if deluding yourself with the hope your eyes were lying to you.

“Jesse,” you tried to sound scolding, but your voice broke with worry, betraying your intentions. “What are you doing…” 

“Gettin’ my thanks,” he replied simply. 

The zipper was pulled slowly, imitating your gradually rising level of fear. When your pants were unzipped, you noticed the cowboy smirk to himself. He grabbed the hem of your trousers and yanked them down to your knees. 

You used this brief moment to fight back. You shrieked maniacally and clawed at his face. The brunette cowboy leaped into action with a feral snarl, grabbing you by your shoulders and slamming you back down onto the bed. He pressed his pelvis into yours with a rough force.

“It’s alright,” he huffed. “I don’t need ‘em all the way down anyway.” 

You sneered back at him until you felt a large finger against your folds. You jerked and tried to kick him away, but your pants were still on your legs, somehow, yet effectively, restraining you. 

“Stop this right now, cowboy,” you hissed dangerously. “I’m not playing anymore.” 

“I ain’t playing either,” he chuckled darkly. He looked down, his eyes growing wider and more psychotic as he watched the way he molested you. 

The finger dove inside you, and the roughness made you shriek in surprise and pain at the dryness. McCree mistook this for pleasure and added in a second digit. He hooked both fingers upwards, scraping them against your upper walls. Your body reacted with a rush of wetness, and suddenly, you were soaking the standard-issue bedsheets (and his fingers) with your juices.

“Mmmm,” he breathed hotly. “You smell so good…”

You were absolutely livid now. “Stop it, you fucking asshole! It hurts!” You tried to lock your thighs, but his free hand was strong enough to keep them open and spread. You mustered up the most dangerous glare you could possibly give. The venomous intent was practically dripping off your face.

But he wasn’t looking at your face. He was looking at how he was working his fingers inside you, a filthy smirk decorating his face like frosting on a cake. 

“Your body is disagreein’ with you, Pumpkin.”

He was right. Your body had begun to lubricate itself further, against your intentions. Your hips were rolling with the movements of his fingers, initially oblivious to the thrusting of your pelvis in an attempt to make him go deeper. 

It was beyond infuriating, and holy hell, did it frighten you.

Since your pants were only half off, the awkward position already made it difficult for him to penetrate you. You used this to your advantage. You twisted your body violently, successfully wringing yourself from his grasp. You tried to scramble away on all fours as quickly as you could, but McCree was faster.

He grabbed your waist and dragged you back towards him, the rough, low quality sheets leaving burns on your knees and palms. You took this moment to verbally abuse him as much as possible. 

“You horny motherfucker,” you hissed angrily. “This is why no one loves you, this is why you have to resort to this, you’re just a- FUCK!” 

Jesse McCree had bitten you.

He was biting your fucking shoulder, and it really fucking hurt. Tears sprung up into your eyes at the pain, and some kind of liquid was flowing down your shoulder. You couldn’t tell if it was your blood or his drool. You didn’t really wanna know. 

You jerked your shoulder, trying to get him off. You felt your skin numb where his teeth were clamped, and he wasn’t budging, so you opted to lurch your entire torso forward. To your surprise, it worked, and some facial ligament of his or whatever cracked violently. 

“You bitch,” he snarled. He used this moment to rake his fingernails across your waist, and you being slightly ticklish, started to laugh despite the pain. He smirked and continued to tickle you while keeping you locked underneath him, your laughter growing more shrill and airy each passing second.

“Stop,” you pleaded between laughs, your face burying itself into his sheets. “Please stop.” 

He stopped, only to thrust his raging erection into your core. You gasped, and looked up from the bedsheets, and he grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked it back towards him. You probably looked so disgusting, with your legs spread wide and your ass in the air, your hair tangled with the hand of a man who was buried inside you like you were some whore.

He started an unbearable pace, humping you like a feral dog, his breath hot in your ear. You keened, your voice seemingly stuck in your throat, words unable to spill out despite how much you wanted them to. He brutally smashed his pelvis into you, his nails digging into your hips like it was a lifeline he had to grasp on to. 

The curve of his cock was rubbing against your pubic bone, combining with the head of his dick caressing your g spot with every thrust. When the tip kissed your cervix, you saw stars. He fucked you into the bed like that for a while, skin slapping skin, and fluid running from your folds and down your thighs.

“Come on,” he growled, his voice airless and frantic. “Cum all over my cock. I need to feel you. Show me you’re thankful, Darl’.”

Him saying that made you realize how close you were to finishing. You clenched your walls in an attempt to hold back your slowly rising orgasm. He groaned, driving himself deeper into your wet core. 

“So tight, so wet,” he muttered to himself. “So fucking good, you’re so fucking good [Name].” 

‘No,” you moaned back. He had let go of your hair. He was reaching around your body to grope at your breasts now. He ran his thumb over the bud of one of them and it rose to him, hardening and becoming sensitive to his touch. You hissed at the feeling, and he exhaled, pinching the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

In embarrassment, you utilized your newfound freedom and buried you face into the bed again, moaning as he crashed into you with every thrust. Your hands clenched the sheets, bracing yourself for every powerful thrust.  
The knot was building faster and faster, way too quickly for comfort. Your mind begged for an end to this violative pleasure while your body argued: yes, more, i want this. 

You screamed in response as your climax hit spontaneously. Your walls squeezed around his member, and McCree keeled over, his seed spilling deep into you in a sick response. He stole some of your flesh in his teeth as he pulsated within you, coating your inner walls white, and painting you like an object. 

You panted heavily after coming down from your high, finally noticing his slowly dying erection was still buried deep inside of you. You shimmied your ass, trying to free yourself from him, but you were too drained. Your body was starting to fail you. Your sight became shaky from the tears welling up in your eyes. You closed your eyes and the salty droplets fell ungracefully. 

“Let me go,” you begged, the tears spewing uncontrollably now. You felt degraded. You wanted him gone, but the only thing you can think about was how he was licking the tears off your cheeks.

“Just a little longer, Darlin’.” He kept himself firmly seated inside you, his body caging yours beneath him. He didn’t want to let you go just yet. The image of what you must look like now filled your mind your mind, and it terrified you so, so badly.

“Let me stay in you just a bit longer…”


End file.
